


Dream Come True

by Astrollnut



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrollnut/pseuds/Astrollnut
Summary: Jaskier struggled but he can’t get away with it. He didn’t know when or why, or what got him here.  It’s a lovely bedroom with exquisite furniture and delicate ornaments, crimson silk and ivory yarn hanging by the window floating velvetly. Some random guy in the gold framed portrait attaches to the wall staring at him with a stern face. Fragrance from the rose petals scattered on the floor with the incense burning slowly and quietly. On any other occasions he would write a song for this extraordinary luxury, but there’s not a single verse appeared in his mind as he was kneeling on the carpet here completely nude.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Dream Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is my first time witcher writing hope i got it covered. Thank you guys for reading. Not betaed so. Feel free to point it out.

Jaskier struggled but he can’t get away with it. He didn’t know when or why, or what got him here. It’s a lovely bedroom with exquisite furniture and delicate ornaments, crimson silk and ivory yarn hanging by the window floating velvetly. Some random guy in the gold framed portrait attaches to the wall staring at him with a stern face. Fragrance from the rose petals scattered on the floor with the incense burning slowly and quietly. On any other occasions he would write a song for this extraordinary luxury, but there’s not a single verse appeared in his mind as he was kneeling on the carpet here completely nude.

He tried to reach for the tie on his foot but the fabric bind on his hands is hanging on the roof and won’t let go. He wriggled awkwardly, considered yelling for help but gave up on second thought. He’d prefer nobody could saw his awkwardness and his humiliation right now.

There’s no one in this room anyway, he thought. But apparently that’s just his wishful thinking as a familiar voice popped out from his back, probably from the door. He immediately put his hands on his crotch by instinct, petrified.

“Jaskier?”

Oh thank god! Jaskier had never felt this relieved hearing his best friend’s voice before. He wriggled and turned his head looking back at the man.

“Hi Geralt! How’s your day?” Jaskier greeted the man warmly. “Such a bad way to see your lovely face in this situation but would you mind a little help in here?”

The witcher in his full armor learned by the door frame with arm crossed. He shook his head and seemed amused.

“I’d rather not.” There’s a laugh hiding in his tone. “It took me a lot of effort to get it done.”

The bard was bewildered. Well that’s unexpected and uncalled for. “Is this for the ditty I wrote? I didn’t mean it, it’s just for the song! To make it catchy!” He pulled out all of his sincerity then added, “I swear!”

Geralt asked even more sincerely. “What ditty?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “Oh ok not the ditty, good,” he mumbled. His neck is getting sore because of the position. “The selkiemore? You can’t blame me when all that thing want is to rip my head off!”

“Nope. I don’t blame you for that.” The witcher shook his head, lips crooked slightly.

“Then what’s all this for?” You can’t fault him for becoming a little hysterical; he got tied up naked for the love of sake! “Is this about the Djinn? I’m sorry alright! I didn’t mean it that way, I was...I was just really frustrated and you said my singing is...”

“No. I don’t blame you for that either.” White wolf deliberating before cut him off, “Maybe a little but no. That’s not the reason.”

“Then why? Why are you doing this to me!” Jaskier tried to look straight at the man to emphasize but the rope won’t yield, he felt indignant. “I didn’t do anything wrong! Let go of me you ruthless, heartless......” He started struggling again.

His movements and grumbles died as the man walked onto him slowly. The witcher looked down at him with fake sadness.

“You don’t like it?” The hypocrite stopped in the nick of Jaskier said.

“Wha...why on earth do you think this is something I would like?” The bard flushed infuriately. His voice suddenly high pitched octave. Out of anger and mad of course, absolutely no other reasons. “What do you want from me? You want me to pay for my dinner? Write you another song? look after Roach next time when you...”

He lost his vocal talent as the man standing behind him grabbed a hold on his shoulder’s curve, sending a chill through his spine.

“Go on, I’m listening.” The man said absently as his hand slithering slowly through Jaskier’s neck.

“Eh...when you...when...um...when you,” Jaskier can’t help but shivered. Must be the wind. 

“Wha...what are you doing?” He tried to look back but there’s a hand pressing on his chin as another hand swam down and down. The swimming hand seemed not from a witcher but belonged to a sorcerer, wherever it goes brings electricity and sparks.

“I always wanted to know what melody would come out of that pretty mouth when that pretty ass of yours got fucked.” The witcher said casually and easily.

Jaskier never thought that one day he would hear those words from the witcher, let alone in this condition. And it was all too surreal, the tone witcher used was too sweet and too dark to be true. But it got the bard speechless nonetheless. He gaped, staring and the constipated face on the portrait looking back at him, didn't know what to do. Is this really happening?

It seems that the witcher took his silent permission. By crouching down behind the man on the ground, he cupped his hands by the side of Jaskier’s waist, nipped at the pink earlobe when all blood in his body rushed to the simple yet pleasing sensation of the pair of lips got in touch of his skin. The warm lips went alongside of his neck to his collarbones to the chest and nipples. 

And the hands! Those big hands! Jaskier always wondered what it would be like to get manhandled by those hands when watching them clutching a sword and cutting the monster’s head off. Needless to say the thought is always distracting and inconvenient when you are standing just a couple feet away from the sword-wielding witcher trying not to be distracting and inconvenient, or embarrassing when you are trying desperately to be normal when the said witcher asks what’s wrong with you in the rare days.

“Oh yes,” He can finally speak. He felt light headed, as the hands tracing down his hipbones and scratching lightly. It feels like a dream come true; all these years longing and aching finally got paid. Not that he had dreamt about this specifically, the scene he imagined would have more tears and kisses while less nudity and ropes. He always thinks of the witcher as the depressed one, but here he is, bound by the man who is caressing him and touching him and licking him all over relentlessly, after the grand statement. “You know I never thought this day would come,”he ended up saying.

“You know what they say. Life’s full of surprises.” Witcher said halfheartedly, he’s busying exploring all the soft spots of his lover. 

And it’s all so perfect, like Geralt already knew all the right places for him to touch and all the little secrets the body held beneath. Like this was something they did and had done it for so many times. The ropes are released at one point and they are on bed suddenly. All the silky softness of the luxurious fabric compared to the kisses Geralt giving now are as poor as the firefly compared to the moons. 

And when he entered him he couldn't help but whimper, felt whole and complete for no reason, felt like a long way home. He can’t trust his mouth for not crying or howling or cursing. The tides of pleasure hit him endlessly, he never felt so good before, nor so happy. He bit his tongue before a groan would slipped out.

“Don’t hold it back. The sounds are beautiful when you look like this, I can hear it all day. Call my name, I want to hear it. I want to hear from you.” The golden eyes are staring at him with fondness like honey melting with sweetness, he would happily die in those eyes. And so he groaned and cried and called his name like a prayer.  
The witcher’s lips licking his jaw, left wet kisses. 

”Jaskier.”

He faintly heard the witcher’s voice calling as the pleasure took over him.

“Jaskier.”

He cradled the man, as the husky voice of the man saying “Come for me baby, you are doing good,”and looking at the eyes of his witcher——“Jaskier!”

A white flash through. He opened his eyes, scrambling, panting, at a lose. It’s dark. The witcher calling from his left once again.

“Jaskier.”

He turned to the man standing by his bed, light dimly shining from the candle on his hold, expression composed as always. The garment on him rumpled. He looks almost concerned. “It’s just a Dream. I’m here now. You are safe.”

A dream.

All blood drained from his face. He felt hollowed.

It’s just a dream. What a cruel joke. He looked at the witcher as he crouched down by him, studying his face with confusion, “What’s wrong?”

The dream. He wanted to say, he’d rather not have it better than get a glimpse of it then realize he can never have it.

“Nothing,”he choked out instead, but it came out wrong, too rushed, too harsh.”Just a bad dream.”

He tried a smile, “Just dreamt about the mountain day. It’s really nice of you to wake me up before you shoo me off. I’d rather not have that once again. So, Thank you.”

But the witcher’s eyebrows narrowed, “No, you are not.”

“Excuse me?” Jaskier faked offended, he’s really at it by practice,“are you calling me a liar?”

“Yes.”

“How dare you! You——”

“Jaskier,” the witcher cut him off gently, golden iris met his eyes in the dim light, he placed the candle on the nightstand and put a hand on his. It’s warm and dry. Until now he hadn’t noticed he was sweating. “I know what it’s like when you dreamt about the mountain. I know what it’s like when you dreamt about the Djinn. About me, dead. That’s not them. I know them.”

Jaskier doesn’t know he felt it more sweet or more embarrassing. He tried so hard not to be so open, so emotional, so clingy to his best friend. To want the things he cannot have. He accepted it long ago. But love it’s his nature, to be sensitive. To dream. He never told Geralt about this, about all this, all his feelings, not even the ones hurt the most. He tried to give him the best of himself, the positive one, the dorky one that seems never knew what’s suffering in life and what’s pain, even only paid by a shadow of smile for return. He tried to be the best for him. The bright side for him.

But somehow, Geralt still figured it out. Not all of it for sure, but he figured out almost all of them. Not for one, the biggest one. Sometimes Jaskier was glad he didn’t; sometimes Jaskier hated him for it; and sometimes Jaskier thought he knew it all along, but just didn’t say anything because he can’t or didn’t want to reciprocate it. He can’t decide whether kindness or cruel is what it is.

The witcher is looking at him in the eyes, there’s something pained in those eyes. Suddenly he can’t look at those ambers.“Talk to me. What’s troubling you? I thought we made that clear back then, you asked me for honesty after all.”

“I——”words died in his mouth. Jaskier stared down at the hand on top of him, looking at the scars. “It’s nothing, go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you.”

“Look at me.” the witcher said quietly. He looked up at him reluctantly. He’s surprised to see the man wearing the softest expression he’s ever seen, and more surprisingly, the softest tone he’s ever heard. “Look, I know I didn't always be there for you the way you are for me, but I'm trying. You know you can always talk to me right? About anything, everything, as long as you asked. But I can't read mind Jaskier, I’m not a sorceress. I can’t force you to talk to me, but i want you to.”

Jaskier felt his heart stuck in his throat, in fear that his voice betrayed him, nodded. All the things he wants to say but cannot say. All the feelings lump in his throat. He fell dizzy, eyes twinge.

The silence fell after. It’s a comfortable silence, only the candle’s burning sound cutting through the night air. Geralt’s still looking at him, wearing the same gentle expression, and a glimpse of fondness. He calmed down slowly, soothing by the hand grubbing at him.

It felt like ages, but finally he could speak. “Yeah-yeah i...i know that, and i’m grateful for it, really. I’m glad i got you, thank you Geralt.”

Geralt smiled, Jaskier felt a fluster in his stomach. “Anything you need. Any time.”

With a final squeeze on his hand, the witcher stood up again, got on his feet and going back to his bed. Jaskier looked at his back, with the witcher’s words in his heart, he’s braver than ever.

“It’s a dream.” He never thought one day his voice would be this hoarse.

Grralt stopped mid step and turned instead, he looked patient; the corner of his eyes’ curved softly. 

“It’s a sex dream.” he corrected. The witcher came back to his side, said nothing. “It’s happy at first. I got the man of my dream.”

Geralt’s face saddened a little, but warm as all along. “But then it went wrong?”

“No. It's as sweet as I can ever imagine.”Jaskier said simply, that’s the fact.

Geralt seems confused, “But you are yelling and calling my name, I thought you were having a nightmare. It wasn't?”

“No.”

“Then why are you horrified when I woke you up?”

“Because i woke up.”

Geralt seems even more confused, but Jaskier didn’t give him time to be confused.

“Because the man of my dream is you, and I don't want to wake up to a world I can't have the man.” There. Done. Jaskier looked down at his own hands, feeling small. 

The silent is suffocating, he felt like drowning. He can only hear the clothes rumpled when Geralt slowly sits down on his bed.

“Oh.” The witcher’s voice sounded shocked.

“Yeah.” He said miserably. “I never thought I would say it out loud. I know you are not interested, and I'm ok with it. Just thought you may want to...”

He got cut off by two hands cupping his cheeks, and two lips smacked onto his bubbling mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, heat came through the touch of the skin.

The kiss is short, almost a peck. Geralt pulled himself back, laughing. “I never thought I would ever hear those words, too. I thought You were not interested.”

Jaskier gaped, he can’t believe it. “Wha-Me? Are you kidding? I’m literally the one that said ``I love you everyday!”

Geralt looked at him deadpanned, “and the one flirt all over the continent.”

“Well,” Jaskier flushed, “that’s hardly my fault, it’s just a habit that came with the job.”

“If you say so.” Geralt smiled warmly from on top of him, fingers trailed on his side idly, looking dazed.

Jaskier smelled the scent of his witcher, never felt more content.

“So about the dream...”

“What about it?” He’s so caught up with the fact that he can hug the man whatever he likes that he missed the mischievous tone of the man.

“You said it was a sex dream, right?”Geralt smirked at him, literally smirked. Jaskier almost startled to see that expression on the witcher’s face. “How did we do it then?”

Jaskier grimaced, “umm...well, not exactly ‘we’ when i’m the only one actually go through the whole sex thing? I mean you’re you my imagination, i doubt——”

Geralt cut him off with a teasing look, “Awww, don’t be shy, i wanna know everything, come on.”

Sighing, Jaskier nudged the witcher down to the side, holding hands. The amber eyes shine through the candle light, as Jaskier looks at them fondly, then starts to picture the flourish the scene is of the bedroom and the ropes.


End file.
